On second thought, I don’t really train with Rudy

Of all the awesome awesomeness of Rudy Napolitano’s national championship ride in Bend, Oregon last week, the most awesome ego fapping part of all is that I’m now able to say, “Yeah, I train with that dude. National road champ, 35+. Uh-huh.”

I’m not the only wanker who got a woody thinking about the stars-and-stripes jerseys brought home by Rudy, Rich Meeker, Michael Easter, Jamie P., and the medals harvested by Jeff K., DeMarchi, Glass Hip Worthington, Charon Smith, Karl Bordine, and the other SoCal riders who dominated at nationals. No sooner had news of Rudy’s win hit the Cycling Illustrated newsfeed than a whole host of other bone idlers began crowing and bragging about how they train and race with these champions.

Prez even admitted what we all do but are too ashamed to confess: Calling his buddies back East to say “THOSE are my training partners, yo!”

The difference between theory and practice

In theory, I suppose it’s legit to say, for example, that I train and race with Rudy and those dudes. Most Saturdays, after all, he shows up on the Donut Ride, and I show up on the Donut Ride. Several times a year I do the Really Early Morning Ride a/k/a REMR. Jeff does the REMR. And of course numerous times I suit up and saddle up for local crits and road races, events at which Jamie, Glass Hip, Meeker, and Charon also toe the line.

Unfortunately, the extent of my “training rides” with Rudy usually ends about fifteen minutes into the ride, or whenever he makes an acceleration, whichever comes first. I mean, can I really call it “training with Rudy” when he’s not even breaking a sweat and I’ve pulled over and quit? Did we train together when he lazily pedaled away from a hundred idiots on the part of his training ride that was actually before his training ride, because if it had been his actual training ride we, like, would never have known he was there?

Same for the “racing with Rich” thing. Did I really race with him when I got shelled on the first climb? Were we really racing together when he was sprinting for first and I was sprunting for 86th? Were Charon and I in the same race when he was a tiny speck at the front and I was a flailing wanker barely hanging onto the tail end of the whip?

And if it’s that bad for me, what about the other bone idlers like Prez who are still attending esteem building classes in order to actually enter a Cat 2 or 35+ race? What about the wank fodder that gets diarrhea and breaks out in hives the night before the “big” showdown at CBR, then wets their bed so badly they catch cold and miss the race?

Cycling is a reality show, and you’re Snooki

The antics of the men and women who trundled off to Bend and whipped the snot out of the best amateurs in America, if truth be told, have nothing in common with the antics of the rest of us. It’s like having Rahsaan Bahati next to you on the New Pier Ride. He’s with you, but he’s not really with you.

The accomplishments of those who returned with jerseys and medals are incredible. They did what the rest of us wish we could do: Ride our bikes smarter and faster than anyone else in the country. Having them back in our midst is good for some ego fapping, but it’s kind of a bummer, too. If they put the wood to the best racers in America, what’s the math looking like that I’ll ever finish ahead of them?

Right.

Better dial up ol’ Russ back in Texas and let him know that my training partner just won nationals. Uh-huh. ‘Cause that’s just how I roll. Me and Prez, I mean. When we’re not crashing. Or getting dropped. Or ego fapping on the bricks.

You realize that without riders like you Seth, there would be no racing. Seriously, you are the competition, the motivation for the guys who are just naturally gifted to get the most out of themselves. It is the pack that makes these guys go faster.

After every stinkin’ race, Charon Smith and Rich Meeker burn a little stick of incense and give thanks to the Dog of cycling for giving them a full 100-man field of idiots who willing donate to their monthly upkeep and maintenance.

one fine sunny day I was out riding along nice and easy – all fit and kitted up – sharp tan lines – sunglasses on the front of my helmet – feeling pretty “pro” – rolled up to 2 nashbar clad recs on hybrids – I rolled easily past them on a little rise that had them huffing and puffng (a little) – I said hi and rolled on – then I got to thinking – “am I closer to them or to a “pro” even a domestic pro – the honest answer is – closer to them – I think of that all the time when I get full of myself

Wanker for sure!! But it is a privilege to ride and train with these guys…..they do make you better no matter what level your at. I have seen it first hand. Congrats to the bad ass elites that brought it home todo cal.

Hey that’s better than me..,.,haven’t done The Ridicurlosly Early Morning Ride since 2002….heck haven’t started a race since 1998…all I can say is I have coffee with Rudy & Konsmo et al….but for me that is enough because as good as those guys are on their bikes they are even better off them. We are truly lucky to have such great riders, roads, & more importantly friends right out our front doors here in the South Bay. To top it off, if you read this blog you can even be part of it without going out your front door!

Have to admit, I thought of this post just tonight (after having read it at work, err… on a break!) while at the Rose Bowl. Bahati showed up for his–what?–5th ride back this season? And promptly showed all us amateurs how to ride a bike while taking phone calls, signing autographs, grabbing some shut-eye at the back, etc… Repeatedly.

Yeah, we all ride with Bahati. “See that dude? That’s Rahsaan Bahati. I ride with him.” “Rahsaan Bahati? He’s my bro. Fuck yeah, ride with that dude all the time.” “Rahsaan? Oh, he’s a cool dude. We do the same Tue/Thu training ride.” “Bahati? Hellz, he leads me out.” “RB? He’s my bud. We train together.”

Har!

My best Bahati story of the year was last week at the final edition of Eldo. I’d been flailing for 50 minutes with Dan Reback trying to gain time on the break, which just went farther and farther away. Finally RB comes to the front and closes the 30-second gap in half a lap. Everyone in the field strung out in a vomiting line of pain…

Afterwards, I roll up to him. “Man, we did a good job bringing back that break,” I said.